


Eddie the Ripper

by unluckeys



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Forced Feminization, Jack the Ripper AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckeys/pseuds/unluckeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waylon Park just discovered his beloved wife of two children was murdered by the Ripper. Just another bad-time, bad-place for his wife, the Police assumed.<br/>But, one man knows it wasn't. One man knew the woman, knew the pathway she took every week, and knew she was a WHORE, ruining his darling's life.<br/>Will Waylon be able to grieve proper the death of his wife, or will he be thrusted into a life or death situation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! 
> 
> I know I have like, 3 stories out but I've had these laying around for months, I finally got enough inspiration to finish them to a chapter and wanted to see if you guys would like them! This one is inspired by one of the most well know, yet unknown men in the serial killer history- someone I felt could associate with Eddie. 
> 
> I do plan to continue to work on the others, I just wanted to post these too! (These meaning I plan to post one more first chapter very soon)
> 
> Enjoy <3

“This was another case of the ripper.” 

Cameras flashed. People gasped, The hum of conversation started before a full out battle began of ‘who had the loudest voice’ from the paparazzi. Some of these people had waited their entire morning for this announcement. They wanted answer, they shouted, they pushed, they shoved.

However for one man, there was no voices. There was no deep mutter of the police chief, no loud sound of a bulb in the cameras going off. No flash to startle him, as it did the two kids held tightly to his side. 

No, all he heard was that word. One word that echoed in his mind.

Ripper.

A curse. A sin to the ears. Blasphemous. That was the word to come out of the police chief's mouth. Especially when it referred to his wife, the mother of his children- Lisa. They refused to tell him their findings in fear he would sell an early story to the media. He had to wait with the people of Whitechapel to find out what happened to her. Weeks. It took them weeks before they could come to a conclusion. So, there he sat, tears welling in the corner of his eyes, his breath coming out in sharp, labored breaths. Breathing entirely foreign, forced. 

He'd seen her throat when he had to identify her cold, blue body but... he didn't think it was the ripper. They tried to calm him by saying she went painlessly, as any respectable man would do. However, soon after the claim, there was a mistaken removal of a blanket. That was when he saw the discarded and disemboweled core of a woman he once laid. Most unfortunately, is that so did half of Whitechapel London. A woman screamed upon her discovery of Lisa, causing every man in earshot to her rescue. Only upon arrival to witness the mother of his children dissected. 

The thought unbearable, Waylon held his children tighter, his shoulders shaking in a soft sob. They knew mommy wasn't coming back. That she went to heaven with fluff their small mutt and grandpa Park. His youngest, Lucas stared ahead at the flashing lights with a look of admiration. His eldest Adam, at age 8, understood more than his father would think. 

Mother was gone. He understood the man well known and spoken about had done ‘it’. Made mother dead, gone. The ‘Ripper’, while feared, was turned into children's games and songs- not something Adam pictured would impact his own life. He turned to his father, clutching onto him for some sort of comfort. Who he wanted to hold him the most was his mother. 

But she was gone. The Ripper had done ‘it’. 

Waylon attempted to calm down his own shaking body, sorting his vest to hold some sort of power or control. It was obvious by the shaky hand running through his shaggy blonde hair that he was far from it. Though they had their rampant quarrels, he still adored his wife. His sons loved her. She mothered them adequately, laid nicely at his beckon. 

Now she was gone. 

The news brought not only a sickening sense of failure, but a slight sigh of relief. It would be over. They had arranged her burial- ‘they’ being the mothers on both side of the family. She had passed weeks ago, leaving stress on the family to hold starting the grieving process. All of Waylon's small coin was made maintaining printing presses. They made the best funeral they could under such funding. It was all ready. All that was missing was the release of the body to them. It took days for them to comb through her body, to remove anything helping to identify her murderer. Then, to promptly sew her back up for her to be presentable to her wake- that was what took the remaining time. The hours had ticked like days, the days like weeks, weeks like months. Waylon could not start to grieve until he rested his wife to the ground. 

Why he sat, shaking, holding in his emotions as society enforced, holding his boys as they looked in desperation for release from the room. Those weeks hurt him, more than he ever could explain. The body was given that afternoon, and the wake planned that night. They needed her rested, as did the entire family.

That was where Waylon stood, looking over the casket of his beloved, his hat held in his hands. Waylon could only think how much Lisa would enjoy her wake. In her church, her favorite church, she sat in a hand carved wooden casket donated by the wood worker. Flowers adorned either side, welcoming a scent away from the death her beautiful body was emitting.

The police had done a very well job of maintaining her, even in this summer heat. To cover the large scar on her neck, she wore a high-collar gown. Absolutely beautiful, though hardly did anyone comment on anything she wore being vulgar. She was pure, honest, Though sewing her up took so much time, they decided to keep the lower half of her body under the wooden casket. Her face wore a little bit of rouge, giving her rosy cheeks. It reminded Waylon of their wedding. Even though it had been arranged, she still took the highest pride to look beautiful.

Funerals never were Waylon’s choice of a night activity. This one was high on the list of something he didn’t wish to be. The many people approaching him, sending their condolences. A few trying to get more information on why she was targeted, or if she was a prostitute like the others had been. All of it went by in a flash. Even the final prayer over her casket, went in one ear and out the other.

Lisa’s casket was held above the ground, ready to be sent down at Waylon’s call. The children remained back with their grandmother, having paid their respects. Just a few weeks prior their mother had been with them in the park, watching over as Adam and his friends played ‘avoid the Ripper’. It left him feeling queasy. The irony in itself was enough to bring more and more tears to his eyes. His grandmother’s embrace comforted his soul, but not his heart. 

A nod of the head, and the graves men began descending her body six feet under. Her eternal resting place. Waylon was the first to place some dirt onto the grave, then the boys, then the other family. He watched tearfully as they concealed her body more and more. The time past, however he couldn’t stop looking at the freshly dug pile of dirt that covered his wife. The family all went home, Waylon's mother exclaiming to the man in shock that the boys would be at her house, and for him to follow suit when he could. They left a carriage for him, whenever he was ready. 

A controlled nod of the head was all his mother wanted before she left, leaving him in the space of the dead. Yet, not everyone was dead. 

Two set of icy blue eyes stayed locked on the somber man as he stared at the ground, quietly mourning the lost of someone he thought he might of had feelings for. The man staring knew better. Those Icy eyes know this man held no love for his wife, that she was better off dead. Like the rest of those whores he buried. 

The stranger leaned on his shovel, running his free hand through his slicked back black hair, sweat on his forehead from just recently digging that grave. The grave digger grinned, knowing that it would soon be his chance, to swoop in, and take his bride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They speak, they laugh, they drink- If only Waylon knew the man he is speaking so fondly with was the one who murdered his wife.   
> (rape TW in here)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This a new chapter, yay, ummm, so, this touches non penetrative rape within this, there is a warning, and if needed it isn't the most of it and probably won't happen again. The last three single line sentences are the safe point. 
> 
> Until then, we are safe! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

A smile. One honest, with the hopes of a child. They had been trying for months, but of no avail. Though both of them typically just satisfied their physicals needs with one another, their love making was not that- love. It was for procreation, to give Adam a younger sibling. Discussions with the family (mostly hers) brought the desire for 4 children; 3 boys, one girl. Always the pushy ones, were her family.   
Finally, the doctor came back, a big smile on his face. “You are pregnant.” Lisa cried. Waylon cried. Surely the doctor also felt teary eyed. They had been trying so long, and finally it was done. Finally...   
That was the only day Waylon could say he felt very close with his wife.   
“Condolences..” Waylon was snapped from his memory, a deep voice filling his ear. Looking up into the setting sun, he saw the silhouette of the stranger.   
“O-Oh? Thank you, uh...” Squinting, his hand moving to assist in seeing the stranger better, he realized this was not a man he knew. The man wore dirty clothes, that of a manual laborer- hardly could Waylon call himself above such a profession, yet he hardly ever got dirty.   
“Gluskin, Edward. I work here.. Here, you must be freezing..” A blanket wrapped around the shivering shoulders of the smaller man, putting a weak smile on his face. Edward felt his heart nearly melt, seeing such a kindness in his love's eyes.   
This was his bride. His darling. This was the reason he stalked that horrid woman. Any woman might have helped the little... Itch, but it was this woman he needed. This woman, laying 6 feet below him, who needed to die. It was obvious to anyone who looked into their windows at midnight, that the two lived a loveless life together. That’s why he killed her. That’s why she was the next target. All those women before.. They weren’t special. She was. Because now that she is dead, he may pursue his lover.   
“Thanks.. I didn’t realize it was getting so cold..” Waylon spoke, holding the blanket closer to his body. It wasn’t until then did he realize how cold he was. This stranger, handsome in a manly way, moved to stand beside him. His bright blue eyes shined in the sunlight, radiating like a beacon on the shore line.   
Waylon was partly memorized, those eyes digging into him deeply. Waylon's hardly pictured them possible. “Might I say, if not being abrasive, but you have very lovely eyes.” Waylon said, to the highest of his ability to not sound like a creeper. However, hardly did he know the man before him would prefer that kind of tone, for he himself admired Waylon in every way.   
“I must say, in a lightly abrasive way, that you are much more lovely.” Edward grinned, showing his rather white teeth, his eyes practically sparkling. Waylon was confused, for never before was he spoken to in such a tone. It was as if this man before him was courting him. However, that was impossible. No, a man would never so openly flirt with another, it was forbidden.   
At least, Waylon was sure it was. He never heard of it outside of hushed whispers about the local brothel house holding young men for choice. Waylon just always hoped his boys would never end up in a similar situation. Some loved it, some were forced, all were deplorable.   
No, his kindness must just be a sign of, of appreciation or grief for him. Of course ,that was it. Waylon was sure of it, he wouldn’t speak such words of courtship so openly. Glancing around, waylon finally realized just how late it was- everyone was gone, leaving him to his own grief.   
The stranger, Gluskin he said, took a seat beside him with a light smile on his face. They sat in a rather comfortable silence, considering the surrounding environment. Not a word was needed between them, as they looked over the grave of the passed wife of Waylon. The sun began to set in the background.   
“I always loved sunsets.... Lisa despised them, claimed they were always too bright, would take to closing every shade the house to save us from the rays. “ Waylon chuckled at the antics, sitting back, allowing the blanket to caress more of his chilled torso.   
“Yeah? Not the most agreeable, it sounds.” Gluskin spoke, observing the younger man beside him more then the sunset. Of course, Eddie was the most charming he could be, how he could always get away so easily with the crime he committed. Mostly any woman would not scare in the presence of a gentleman, like he could speak as.   
If they knew where he grew to learn to speak, how he would use it to lure people into a false sense of security then strike, oh, would they fear. Hold nothing but fear.   
Once, only once, did he get spotted by another while leaving the crime scene. Luckily, this was a drunken man who described him as a 7 foot giant with bright red eyes and scaly skin. Eyes bloodshot from a strike back from the whore, maybe, however he was simply a 6’5 man with smooth yet freckled skin on his arms.   
The sketches did of him were nothing human. Nothing that could tie him to such a crime. He had gotten away with it once more. Yet, if he got his wife beside him, he wouldn’t have to kill any more. He would only be able to focus on her, to make sure she births their first child well. To make sure he properly takes care of her, of his child. To be supportive, of course, loving. Eddie grinned large as he glanced at his beautiful bride, illuminated by the orange light.   
“I, should... probably start to make my way home....” Waylon said with a heavy sigh, a light shake of his head as he forced himself to fight past his desire to stay, to stay a grieve. To think of how much he cared for this woman- not loved, and before their relationship could develop into love, like every said, she was taken from him. Horrifically.   
“If you feel that would be the best... I, do have a cabin here, as the groundskeeper. If you so desire to escape for a while. You seem like the nice type.” Eddie spoke casually, as if it was something he offered many grieving partners. Waylon looked at this man, trying yet failing to pick up any sort of uncertain feelings from him. He was nothing but smiles, light glances, nothing unusual.   
“Thank you very much for the offer. Though now I know I must be back to my children, there is a chance i may take you up on the offer on a later note. It is rather easy to get lost in thought, and you know how unsafe it is to walk the streets at night..” Waylon spoke, not a muscle moving as the day of light slipped behind the horizon line. Night time. Full of burglars, thieves, murderers- like the ripper, though he doubt he’d be a target for such a man.   
“I could escort you. I am familiar in the area, no one takes to messing with me.” Gluskin spoke softly, a suggestion, though a light push on it. For his safety, of course. Waylon was honored that, at this moment of grieving, he’d find a friend in the more lowly of professions.   
“Yeah, that would be... Nice... Since that is an offer, may I ask... How it is to, you know... Work here? Digging graves and stopping grave robbers?” Waylon asked softly, hugging the blanket closer to his body as he watched the light of dusk began to slowly fade, arriving for the street worker to light the candles to make the streets safer. It was spoken in the news, that other places have begun electric street lights. Yet, they were saved from it currently, giving these men a job to light light after light. Their repetitive behavior made it easy for Waylon to fall into a trance, making it even harder to will his muscles movement.   
“I find it, rather lonely at times, however.. It is a honorable job, that someone must do. I always like being said someone in scenarios. Though, to see those grieving, at first was hard,” Very smooth was he at lying, for Eddie loved the pain expressed on women's faces, loved to see how quickly one turns to the arms of another in the case of their husbands dying. It helped justify his ‘hobby’. Whores, the like of them. Not his woman though, she remained faithful, straight focused on the death of that tragic woman. “I have begun to become a little, immune if you might. Like a priest, who is there to offer support, not show emotions on their own.”   
Honorable, Waylon might say. He remained quiet for a while, before the words escaped his mouth quicker than he possibly would have though. “I couldn’t do it,” he blinked at the sudden realization that it was his voice which said those words, “To be around people, crying, wailing, day after day, I think I would crack.” Not to far from the truth of the fellow Gluskin, however he was already a broken shell, just waiting for the last nail to crack him open.   
“It’s not for everyone... Here, let’s get you home, maybe you’ll be there in time to kiss the boys goodnight.” Eddie rose, assisting Waylon to his feet as well. Waylon Thought for a moment as the blood rushed from his head. Not eating for so long can cause such a dizziness.   
“How.. how do you know I have boys?” Waylon asked suspiciously, the suspicions coming from nowhere anyway. Even if he did, it wasn’t like he had known him before this single day, nor followed him home to see it.   
“I was supervising the funeral. They look like you, even the older one. It is distinctly different, yet still similar in a taste.” Eddie said, as he kept his arm lightly around Waylon's waist, as if he was assisting him staying on his feet. Of course, ‘assisting him’ was a lightly used word, he was more or less enjoying the feel of his future wife pressed against his own frame, of how her fragile frame needed his strength to stay upright. It was...  
Empowering.   
“Oh, yeah. I guess.... Adam does look a lot more like his mother, he’s the oldest. The youngest, Lucas, well, he got his looks from me.” Waylon said, allowing the assistance as they began taking steps, Eddie's arm still wrapped around his waist. Waylons tired, deprived mind was thinking how grateful he was to have such a friend assist him at his time of need, over the little mounds of dirt and grass which were just waiting to trip him.   
“And he is, might I add.” Peculiar, this one was. However, friendly in word and calm in manner, Waylon thought nothing about it. Just like how he thought nothing about inviting this stranger into his home, to offer him a drink, maybe a bite to eat.  
Maybe even introduce him to the kids, daddys new ‘friend’.   
Of course, how could Eddie resist.   
___________  
To drink one was more than enough for Waylon to begin feeling it. However, as the numbers added up, as the glass continued to get filled, and the bottle empty more and more, he realized that it didn’t take as much as he thought to get pissed drunk.   
What he didn’t realize, was Eddie himself was on his second drink. When Waylon would refill his own glass, just a splash more would end up in his guests glass.   
Hard liquor, Lisa hated it. Waylon hated it. But he needed it. This was from his more personal collection, which was just for show. A brown color liquid held within a decorative glass, one which didn’t belong drunk. Yet now, the drink was consumed, and the decorate glass laid sideways on the floor. Waylon laid against the couch, covering his arm with his hand as a subtle groan escaped his lips.   
“Oh man, Eddie. You have no idea- idea, how much... how much I miss her... Like, who’s gunna take care of the kids? Who’s-Who’s going to.. To watch the place when I work? Clean? Cook? M-my mother is piss poor at those things!” Slurring, Waylon tilted his glass back one more time, dropping the empty vessel on the ground. His body turned and faced towards his guest, who sat at the other end of the couch. Waylon’s tie had already left his throat hours ago, however now ,he was hot, very hot. Very, very hot.   
“Oh man, someone open a window..” Waylon groaned as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, exposing the base shirt below it. That was quickly discarded, joining the bottle and the glass on the floor beside it.   
“But did you love her?” Eddie asked, still clear in mind, still calm in manner as he simply took one sip of his drink, then set it on the hand-crafted side table. His eyes began to feast on the offering set out before him. Stripping, practically, like girls of an ungraceful profession. Practically unwrapping himself for his eyes to feast upon.   
“Nooo, no no no, everyone told us it might happen when we’re older, but, no, I never loved her. I MADE love to her a couple times,” Waylon laughed ,referring to the end result, which was the kids. “She wasn’t a bad lay, hard to get pregnant though..” Waylon said, as he looked over at the man who was feasting on him with his eyes, completely oblivious to Eddie’s gaze.   
“Why is it so god damn hot in here!?” Referring to god’s name in vain, it was obvious Waylon was plastered. He began to unbutton his pants, ungracefully removing them from his body. His bloomers and undershirt were all that remained on his body. A target, easy, drunk, open for the taking. Eddie was tempted, more than tempted.   
(rape TW beyond this part )  
Once or twice he may have tried to lay one of the women, however ,none of them were tempting. Much less like this, as Waylon’s body spread out, sprawled all around, arms over the couch, legs on the floor, his crotch practically begging for attention. Which is what Eddie just gave to it.   
In one swift move, the man was on top of the other, his lips dominating the alcohol-tasting mouth viciously, hands roaming a heated, rigid body. Waylon held tight, confused, concerned, yet not all disliking it. Yet the second the fog cleared from his head for a moment, he pushed back against Eddie.   
“No no no, she just died, it’s the day of the funeral! And, you're a man!” Obvious, of course, yet not enough evidence to stop Eddie. He continued to ravage the body of Waylon with heavy foreplay, touching his chest, his member, his ass, everything he’s been tempted all this time to do, finally doing it. Eddie himself never felt this excited in his life.   
Waylon however, was disliking it. Though his drunken mind repressed many things, and eventually would repress this, he knew it was wrong. He knew he didn't like it, didn’t want it. Eddie was a man, it was unheard of for two men to sleep together outside of a brothel! That’s all his mind repeated as he let out staggered and weak pleas for help, for Eddie to stop, as his body betrayed him.  
His blasted body, why would it do that? Why would he leave a stream of silky seman across his stomach from a simple skilled touch? Why would his nipples stay erect for hours after, from the simple attention his strange friend gave them? Why did his body clench and moved against his wishes, into the touch instead of away from it.   
Eddie didn’t go all the way, the satisfaction of helping Waylon reach such a point was enough to satisfy him for the night.  
Luckily, Waylon wouldn’t remember a thing.   
But Eddie will.   
He’s gotten a taste. He wants another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Waylon's made a big mistake, letting Gluskin in? 
> 
> Follow me on [Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/unluckeys/) and [Tumblr](http://unluckeys.tumblr.com/) for future updates!
> 
> Also, Add me on Snapchat if you want to see random aspects of my life! (@ unluckeys)

**Author's Note:**

> So, who is excited to see more of Eddie the Ripper?
> 
> See other original stories I write on [Wattpad](http://www.wattpad.com/user/unluckeys)
> 
> Follow my [tumblr](http://unluckeys.tumblr.com/) for updates and art and all things trashy!
> 
> My [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/unluckeys/) has my daily life and more of my art, follow if you wanna!


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